In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
Excerpt from "Invictus" by William Earnest Hemmingway
III: The Bludgeonings of Chance
"Victus! On your six!"
Garrus had to shout to be heard above the sound of husks and gunfire. Their comm tower had gone down hours before, as a flood of reaper shock troops flooded the barricades of Alpha outpost. Past the gates, a reaper stood miles away, silhouetted against the burning orb that was Palaven. His heart constricted at the sight of his home planet smoldering below them. He sent up a silent prayer, hoping his father had evacuated the family.
A sudden shriek brought him back to the present, and he turned to slam the butt of his rifle into the head of an oncoming husk. Garrus had his five specialists pulling double duty out on the front lines, along with a larger platoon of fifty soldiers. He and Victus had been tag-teaming command; their downed comms left radio chatter jammed, so whichever superior was closest to the point of formation was calling the shots.
At the moment, Victus was charging ahead, cutting a path through countless numbers of husks towards the crippled comm tower. He had a group of ten soldiers with him, each outfitted with the special incendiary ammo Garrus and his team had developed. The acrid smell of burning flesh and metal hung heavy in Menae's thin atmosphere.
Garrus vaulted up a rocky outcrop, finding a vantage point, and began picking off husks as they flowed around Victus. He had worked at developing specialty sniper ammunition for his Widow, creating something that resembled an incendiary round but expanded outward upon impact, allowing the flammable core an immediate and large amount of oxygen. The result was a spectacular shower of flaming gore as his shot ripped through the head of a husk about to latch onto Victus' back.
"Scratch one!" he shouted to no one in particular. Several more shots dispatched the last of the flood, and he vaulted down from his vantage point to catch up with the platoon.
"Damnit!" Victus shouted, running his fingers over the control panel on the comm tower. "As much fun as it is tip-toeing through fields of husks, I'm sick of fixing these damned towers. A necessary evil, in my opinion."
Garrus grunted his agreement, assessing their surroundings. The tower was on the far side of Alpha base, closest to where the flood of shock troops had breached their barricades. "We need more turrets on this end of the outpost. No wonder they were able to get through; we've only got five men up on the platforms."
Victus gave a quick bark as the comm tower came back online, and lifted his hands up in a "you don't say" gesture. "I've sent multiple requests planetside for more ammunition, rations, guns, soldiers, turrets and Fornax mags. You think I've gotten anything I asked for?"
Garrus snorted, resting the barrel of his rifle on an armored shoulder as they made their way back to the sleeping area. "You think Command would have concern for moral and all that."
Victus kicked a husk corpse out of his way, eyes studying the carnage spread before them. The fighting had gone on for hours before they had been able to punch their way through to the tower. Now, in the quiet aftermath, Garrus' spine tingled with misplaced adrenaline. Victus' blood was up too, he could tell, as the two men climbed the steps towards the bunk shelter. For weeks they had been wasting ammunition on hoards of reaper creations. So far the surface of Menae only hosted a handful of actual reaper sentient ships, which seemed to be unloading endless amounts of harvesters and husks. Battle aggression and misplaced adrenaline had left many of the greener troops at each other's throats; the infirmary was already tasked to capacity with combat wounds, and was now seeing its fair share of sparring victims. That didn't stop anyone from taking their aggression out on each other. The sparring had turned from friendly to desperate in a matter of days, and Garrus said a silent mantra of thanks to the war spirits for sending him a platoon of all-male troops.
He heaved a sigh and sat on a lower bunk, pulling off his gloves to assess the state of his Widow. Vitcus collapsed on a bunk across from him. Manae's silica and rock terrain was proving to be a constant annoyance. The fine grains of dirt would work themselves into the smallest of crevices on armor and weapons alike. Vitus let out a quiet whistle as Garrus pulled the gun apart and began running a cleaning cloth lovingly along the barrel.
"That's quite the weapon, Vakarian. You get that during your stint in the Terminus?"
"It was a gift," he replied simply, separating the barrel from the rest of the rifle.
"That's a hell of a gift."
Garrus grunted in reply. He trusted Adrien. The general had been a steadfast and reliable asset to the Menae teams, with a shrewd sense of tactics that always managed to get them out of stickier situations. He was not overly nosy, but had spent small parts of their downtime prodding at Garrus, trying to get the turian to open up. If Victus had his suspicions, he hadn't voiced them, but Garrus was sure the general had seen the mark on his neck more than once. Turians had keen eyesight by nature, and an ingrained sense of determining how someone belonged, and to whom.
"I have a son. He's serving with the Ninth Platoon. I had a wife, too."
"Had?" Garrus asked, not looking up from his ministrations.
Victus let out a small sound of disgust. "She left me about five years back."
Garrus' head snapped up to stare at the general. Turian bond-breaking was nearly unheard of; they mated for life. Chemical and emotional ties had evolved to survive the stresses of a predatory planet, and a turian with multiple bond markings was often seen as an outcast. Adultery was punishable by death, a slightly archaic law that still stood. The accused could be held accountable by a court, or if the scorned mate so chose, a trial by combat.
"Packed up her things and took a charter to Taetrus," Victus continued, eyes settling on something unseen. "Citing her views on the Heirarchy, and how she couldn't continue to be with someone who 'had his mandibles so far up the Primarch's ass'. Last I heard, she was killed in a raid on Vallum, after Facinus slammed the ship into the city."
"I'm sorry," Garrus supplied lamely, tilting his head in sympathy.
"I'm not," Victus replied, running a finger across his forehead. It was a rude gesture, something akin to the human middle finger. "I made a mistake with Vina. She was weak, with a dull spirit. At the time of our bonding, I was blinded by a pretty face and a good lay. We had our son, and it all was downhill from there. Things became especially strained when I was promoted." He sighed, leveling a look at Garrus. "I am, first and foremost, a soldier. Now, I think it would take someone with a strong spirit to make me reconsider bachelorhood."
Garrus simply nodded in agreement, tipping oil into the trigger mechanism. Victus snorted.
"You can be honest with me, Vakarian. I've seen the mark."
He froze over his gun, stomach migrating to his throat. Ah shit. Placing the disassembled rifle beside him on the bunk, he folded his hands in his lap and forced his eyes to meet Victus'. "It's not public knowledge."
"I gathered as much. Afraid of the political backlash? 'Acanthus Vakarian's only son bonded to a human Spectre!' I can see the headlines now. And your father's…inevitable mental breakdown."
"Something like that. Mainly she didn't want the Alliance or the Hegemony to use me as leverage against her."
Victus nodded, his eyes searching Garrus' face. "I've worked with a few humans myself, but none so…alive as your commander. She has a warrior's spirit. A male would be lucky to lay claim to someone that strong."
Garrus processed this information. Adrien Victus, Hierarchy general, was approving of his and Shepard's bond.
"She wears paint," he continued, flipping his hands to lay palms up on his knees. It was a gesture of politeness, an apology for prying into Garrus' private life.
"The marks of her people. A people that are almost extinct, from what she's told me."
Victus absorbed this bit of information with a slight nod of his head. "Will you be putting your marks on her face?"
"I…it would be a lie to tell you haven't considered it. But it's her decision, if we choose to make our bond official. Humans don't make a habit of wearing clan markings." Visions of him and Shepard in the Normandy's cargo bay flooded his mind. His neck bleeding from her bite wound, a thumb tracing his markings across her face in his blood. His spine tightened.
"I don't understand it, but as I said, it would be difficult to not be captivated by her. Humans have ascended quickly in the thirty years they've been a part of council space. It's a shame they have her incarcerated. She is a force to be reckoned with, a natural leader. Something her people are in desperate need of. But, it is a prime example of how foolish humans can be."
"Tell me something I don't know," Garrus quipped, clicking his rifle back together and compressing it to rest next to his bunk.
"I hope to meet this commander of yours." Victus swung his legs up onto the bunk, leaning back to recline against the mattress. "Perhaps you'll favor me enough to invite me to your bonding ceremony."
Garrus copied the general, reclining back against the mattress to stare up at the underside of the bunk above him.
"After the war is over, be sure to check your terminal for a personal invitation."
They both laughed before falling into a companionable silence, lost in their own myriad of thoughts and memories. Garrus felt his eyes grow heavy. The exertions of the day were finally catching up with him, and his body succumbed to a heavy and fitful sleep.
Victus shook him awake hours later, a ghostly figure in the dark, white markings almost glowing. There was a concerned, almost sickly look on his face, and Garrus was suddenly wide-awake. "Vakarian, there's been some news. You better come with me."
He felt himself go numb, and struggled to his feet, cradling his Widow to his chest. Victus lead him to the command station, where the large galaxy map projected pixelated systems. General Corinthus was bent over the holo, brows knitted. At the sight of them, he stood and saluted.
"Advisor Vakarian, General Victus. Thank you for coming so quickly." The older general adjusted the holo in front of them, zooming in to a system. Garrus felt his mouth go dry as recognition hit. "Command passed along intel about ten minutes ago that the Sol System has gone dark. Luna Base has been decimated, and the reaper forces have descended to Earth. The spear point of their attack was Alliance Headquarters in Vancouver."
Garrus saw the scene in front of him skew wildly as he fought to keep his composure. Shepard was being held at Alliance HQ. Vancouver. Reapers. Shepard. Ahyoka.
Victus made no movement towards Garrus, but the look of concern on his face betrayed the calm of his voice. "And what of Alliance leadership? Admirals Hackett and Anderson?"
Unspoken was the question Garrus wanted to ask. Anderson now commands the Normandy. Shepard would be his XO. What of Shepard? What of the Normandy crew?
Corinthus shook his head grimly. "Our intel is days old, and we aren't getting anything in or out of Sol. I can only hope humanity had a contingency plan."
Garrus snapped his teeth together in anger. "They had their contingency plan incarcerated on false genocide charges." If the Alliance hadn't shoved their heads so far up their asses, Shepard wouldn't be dead. He took a deep, calming breath, fighting back the panic. Don't think like that, Vakarian. Death couldn't hold her the first time. She'll find a way out.
Corinthus settled an apprehensive look on the younger turian. "I assure you, Advisor, if I receive any new intel, I will pass it along. However, my focus is holding this moon. Fedorian has evacuated Palaven, and should be arriving within the next few hours on the Dauntless."
"He's evacuating?" Victus spat incredulously. "Spirits, why would he do that?"
Corinthus suddenly looked much, much older, and hung his head. "Cipritine is nothing but ashes, Victus. It's hard to strategize war tactics from a smoldering ruin."
Adrien and Garrus stood side by side, fretting over the holo table. A reaper had landed five miles from their position, husks pouring out of it in a tidal wave of terror. The push was threatening the nearest comm tower -again- and with communications as limited as they had been, they couldn't afford for it to go down.
It had been three days since Corinthus had broke the news of Cipritine's fall. Garrus had seen Fedorian once in those 36 hours, the Primarch giving him a nod and a companionable slap on the back with each encounter. There had been no news of his father, other than Fedorian had ordered Acanthus to evacuate the family anywhere other than Palaven the same day Garrus departed for Menae. It was a slight weight off of his chest, but he wouldn't rest easy until he was sure they were safe.
"We could flank them," Garrus said, tracing a line around the nearest contingent of reaper troops. "That's a pretty tall outcrop. I've got about ten decent snipers in this platoon plus myself. Throw a couple gas grenades into the fray and distract them while we use thermal scopes to take them out."
Victus made a non-commital noise in the back of his throat, tapping a finger against his mouth. "That would work. What we could try to do is flank them, and herd them here." He pointed to a natural valley between two sizable outcroppings. It was closed on three sides, and narrow at the choke point. "Does anyone here have a Cain?"
"Paulus does. He's damn good with it too."
"How do we get our men up that rock face? It's a good twenty feet tall."
"How many biotics do we have stationed here?"
Victus tilted his head in confusion. "We've got two…"
"Send in the two fastest men to herd them through the chokepoint, then have the biotics lift them out of the trap. It's only twenty feet, so even a mediocre adept should be able to do it. Hell, I was lifted across a 200-foot gap between warehouses on Omega. Granted, the biotic doing the lifting was an amped human convict with an authority complex, but I made it across."
"Now that's a story I need to hear," Victus chortled, turning to the lieutenant at his left. "Tell Cantus and Mennix to gear up. I need two recons as well; the fastest you know of. Have them meet us at the south gate in ten minutes."
The lieutenant saluted and sprinted off into the camp.
"This is a side of crazy I have yet to see out of you, Vakarian," Victus mused as they suited up.
"Oh, I learned from the best," he answered, checking his grenade count. "Get a glass of brandy in front of me and I'll tell you more."
The older turian snorted and lead the way to the south gate, cutting an imposing figure in black armor. Garrus was still slightly taken aback by the amount of people who saluted him, including generals. Advisor was an honorary title, but held a significant amount of weight in the Hierarchy. He was, technically, the same rank as his father, who had twenty years of experience on him. The galaxy works in mysterious ways, he mused.
There was a contingent of foot soldiers waiting for them at the gate, including two turian biotics. Extremely rare and usually ostracized, they often ended up serving in the military until reaching retirement. Cantus and Mennix had been on the front lines back on Palaven, but had broken off when their cabal was decimated on Cipritine. Reassigned to Menae, they preferred working as an elite team, going where they were needed most.
"Kabalim Cantus, Kabalim Mennix, nice to meet you," Victus said. "Have you been briefed?"
Cantus, all dark plates and green clan markings, nodded. "We can, if you find it necessary, lift more than two soldiers." He looked to his partner, and Mennix nodded in agreement, light plates and grey markings almost glowing.
"The less we have to worry about pulling out of the pit, the better," Garrus said, stepping up next to Victus. "Estimates put us at approximately two hundred husks that we need to take out. I have a specialist with a modified Cain, as well as several incendiary grenades."
Mennix's eyes widened slightly at the appearance of Garrus, and he hastily saltued. "Advisor Vakarian, sir! It's an honor to be fighting alongside you." The biotic dropped to one knee, holding out his rifle while staring at Garrus' booted feet. Adrien chuckled under his breath, making Garrus flare his mandibles. "Stand up, kabalim. You don't need to swear an oath to little ol' me. We've got more important things to worry about."
Mennix stood and saluted again.
"Twenty-seven years in the military, five years as a general, and nobody has even attempted to swear an oath to me," Victus said to Garrus quietly. His subvocals were laced with amusement.
"It's because you aren't as good looking as me."
They made their way to the outcrop, Victus breaking off and taking a contingent of soldiers, Garrus and his small troop of snipers setting up to provide covering fire. In the distance he could see the reaper, slowly progressing cross the landscape. The creature was almost unbelievably enormous. Several small fighters buzzed past it, peppering its metal hide with bullets. They looked like flies compared to the sapient monstrosity.
The gunfight was brief. Victus pulled his soldiers back behind another distant ridge, to provide a fallback if the targets decided to turn and go the opposite direction. Watching through his scope, he saw the two recon scouts break off from the larger platoon and sprint through the hoard of husks, too fast for the creatures to catch. Almost all began lumbering after the soldiers, a roiling mass of dark cybernetic flesh that coagulated together at the chokepoint.
"Fire at will boys!" Garrus shouted, loud enough to be heard down the line. His platoon answered with loud cracks of their rifles. The bait scouts hugged either side of the gulley wall to allow the snipers a clear shot. Paulus knelt in the middle next to Mennix and Cantus, balancing the Cain across his knee. Husks fell as bullets from both sides began ripping through them, only to be trampled by their kin as they fought to climb through the narrow fissure of rock. "Kabalims! Be at the ready."
The two biotics would need to snatch the scouts out of the trap at the last minute, simultaneous with Paulus spooling up the Cain. Garrus began lobbing incendiary grenade into the crush of husks, reveling in the sight of cybernetic flesh smoldering. They had almost driven all the creatures into their trap, and he gave Paulus the signal to warm up his weapon.
Raising his arm up, he used his omnitool to flash a predetermined signal down to Victus. Who needs radios when you have smoke signals? The general's contingent began to break away, splitting down the middle and taking cover behind whatever they could find.
"Ten seconds to detonation, sir!" Paulus called, panting. Garrus could hear the telltale whine of the Cain as it powered up.
The husks were advancing on the recon scouts now. He had been counting in his head, and reached five. "Kabalims! Now!"
The two biotics unleashed a flurry of blue energy, enveloping the pair of soldiers in the gully below. Suspended almost effortlessly in their own mass fields, they shot twenty feet upwards as Mennix and Cantus began sprinting backwards towards cover. The scouts landed hard at the top, rolling a few times before getting their feet back under them.
"Everybody fall back!" Garrus yelled as the Cain countdown reached zero. The weapon detonated with a blinding flash, and he turned his face away from it, feeling hot wind in its wake. Down the line, Paulus whooped.
Blinking away the spots in his vision, Garrus turned to assess the damage. The husks had been decimated, only a few stragglers crawling over the fallen corpses of their kin. He gave Paulus a congratulatory slap on the back.
"Impressive work, Lieutenant. The slow charge time is well-worth the results."
He turned to the two biotics, only to be interrupted by Corinthus' voice in his earpiece. Comm tower must be back up, he thought before responding. "Vakarian here. Go ahead, General."
"I need you and Victus back here on the double. There's been a development."
"Understood." Garrus hailed Victus and his platoon, the needling feeling of dread building in his gut.
Alpha base hummed with barely-contained energy as the two males made their way back. Corinthus was hunched over the holo table, speaking quietly to an officer. At their appearance, he turned and saluted, mandibles pulled tight to his face.
"Vakarian. Victus. I'm afraid I have bad news. We got word fifteen minutes ago that a shuttle carrying Primarch Fedorian was shot down by reaper forces." He shook his head mournfully, and Garrus felt his gut clench. "There were no survivors."
Fedorian had promoted Garrus to advisor with the belief that he could be the change his people needed in the war. The Primarch had believed his story even before he had a chance to explain it in detail. And now, he was dead at the hands of the very creatures he tasked Garrus with researching.
"Who is next in the line of succession?" Victus asked quietly. Fedorian had been a close family friend of the general. Instinctually, Garrus moved to provide him with a comforting arm clasp, but military stoicism dictated they leave the grieving for off duty.
"At the moment? Xarcavian. However, last I heard he was still holding the line back on the outskirts of Cipritine. There's no guarantee he's still alive. From there things get a little scattered. It's been many, many years since the lines of succession have blurred because of so many deaths." Corinthus heaved a heavy sigh. "Even if there was a clear answer, we wouldn't have it. Our main comm tower went down about ten minutes ago, and I don't have the forces to spare to get it back up and running."
"I'll take my men," Victus said. "We just took out a contingent of husks back over on by the south side comm tower. Their blood is up and they're looking for another fight."
Corinthus shook his head. "I need you over at Beta outpost. Their commanding officer was killed trying to clear a path for Fedorian's shuttle. Take some of your men over there. They lost almost an entire platoon."
Victus gave the other general a quick salute before departing.
"What can I do, sir?" Garrus inquired. His stomach ached at the thought of Fedorian. Another good man is dead because of these fuckers.
"Right now? I need you and your team to go over the data I'm getting in from the other outposts. We know about husks, but we're getting other reports of…different constructs. Large, four-eyed beasts with weapons sprouting from their arms. Turian-like constructs with armor, commanding platoons of husks."
Garrus shook his head. It was only a matter of time before the reapers began using other species as the template for their ground troops. Killing husks was one thing; Shepard had compared them to the Terran myth of "zombies", mindless, undead humans with a taste for flesh. They were almost laughably easy to take down. Husks relied entirely upon huge numbers to swarm and take down any targets. An armored, armed reaperized turian was going to be a different enemy entirely. "Send me what you have. I'll get my team on it."
Corinthus nodded, then saluted. "For all we know, you could be the next primarch. Since your promotion, you're higher in the line of succession than even I am."
"Let's hope not," Garrus replied grimly. "I belong out here on the front lines. And besides," he tipped his head in amusement, letting his mandibles flare in a wide grin. "I'm terrible at politics."
Corinthus barked a gruff laugh and began transferring files to Garrus' omnitool. "You're the closest thing we have to an expert on these things, Vakarian. Do what you can."
Garrus nodded, snapping his teeth together.
I could really use you now, Shepard. Spirits forbid I end up Primarch; I'm going to need you to handle the politics.
The shuttle ride to Menae was quiet as death, punctuated only by the occasional thump of atmosphere hitting the exterior. Shepard sat tense next to Liara, fighting the urge to bounce her restless feet. Vega stood clutching a support strap, hulking in his heavy armor.
"T-minus five minutes to the LZ, Commander," came Cortez' voice from the cockpit. "It's going to be a little hot."
To punctuate his point, the pilot pulled up the exterior feed on a vid screen. Below them, the turian homeworld glimmered and smoldered with bright points of orange light. What little resolve Shepard had vanished, disappearing underneath the crushing weight of grief and terror. Garrus is down there, somewhere. And I can't save him.
She had retreated to the shuttle bay after entering turian space, meticulously checking her weapons and tactical cloak. Deep down she knew a part of her was unable to be on the bridge during their approach to Palaven for fear of her reaction. It was one thing to fall apart in front of your helmsman, someone who had known you for four years, and knew your lover was located somewhere on a smoldering planet. It was another thing to lose it in front of a young marine who was looking to her for leadership and strength.
The image of Palaven burning punched her in the gut like an iron fist. The burly lieutenant was openly staring at his commander. She knew the look she was wearing was one of numbness, a mask void of any emotion. Liara's gasp of despair tore Vega's inquiring gaze away from Shepard's face.
"Oh no. No. Palaven…" The asari reached for Shepard's hand, and the commander let her take it, feeling utterly numb. Vega gave the two a questioning look, eyebrows raised.
"We have an old friend down there," Liara supplied, her large, violet eyes searching Shepard's. The commander's gaze never left the vid screen.
"Holy hell," Vega exclaimed, watching the screen as a reaper tore a turian frigate in half. "The biggest military in the galaxy, and they're getting obliterated."
Shepard felt a sudden chill of dread seep into her system. These creatures were destroying every sentient life in the galaxy, as if they had the right to. They had landed on her mate's homeworld, obliterating any hope she had of reuniting with him. She hadn't felt despair so strong since watching Garrus bleed out on the floor of his Omega apartment. Now, it was threatening to overtake her. She suppressed a shiver, and stood, pulling her SMG from its place on her back.
"LZ is up ahead, Commander," Cortez alerted, banking the shuttle hard starboard as they descended into Menae's thin atmosphere.
"James, open the hatch." Her voice sounded wrong, as if her vocal chords had died. Liara shot her a look of worry, which Shepard ignored.
Vega complied, the hatch rising to reveal the rocky terrain of Menae below, swarming with husks. Shepard flipped her gun to incendiary. "Alright. Get in, get out. Let's go grab us a Primarch."
Cortez set the shuttle down and the trio leapt out, guns blazing. Shepard had never seen so many husks in one place before; the reapers must have opened the floodgates. A groaning creature ran towards her, only to fall in a heap of flames from Vega's well-placed shot. She gave him a curt nod, motioning for them to move forward.
The sounds of an active warzone bled into Shepard's subconscious, and she felt what she knew was bloodlust beginning to build in her chest. She sprinted forward, disappearing under the cover of her tactical cloak. A trio of husks ran blindly towards Vega's six, and she leapt, using every bit of cybernetic strength she had. Her omniblade flashed out in a hard horizontal arc, and she drew it across the three necks of her lieutenant's attackers. The severed heads hit the ground, bouncing with a sickly thump, and Vega spun, surprisingly agile for such a large individual. Shepard uncloaked with a blue-white fizzle. She snapped the now-useless blade off on the side of a rock outcrop. It fell to the ground, momentarily glowing a soft orange until its compounds disintegrated.
"Holy shit!" Vega yelled, lowering the assault rifle he had pointed at the Commander. "You're like a fucking ghost!"
She gave him a grim smile before pushing ahead. The team was dispatching husks with occasional bouts of gunfire or Liara's biotics. Shepard itched for a high vantage point, to take out her hatred and disgust with the help of her Widow. Now was not the time. They had a primarch to find.
Navigating the surface of the moon proved to be difficult; their radios were unreliable, being jammed by whatever EM pulses the reapers were sending out. They had to rely on eyesight and hand signals as they pushed forward, dispatching shock troops as they went along. Rocky outcrops made their path twice as long as it would have been. Shepard set a hurried pace, feeling the steady movement of her feet lulling her into a sort of meditative state. They rounded a corner and saw the first signs of civilization. The compound itself was heavily guarded along the outer perimeter. Turian soldiers stood vigil next to turrets, assault rifles in hand. She turned her face towards the gatekeeper, making sure he could see they were friendlies.
"Hold your fire!" he shouted down the line, lowering the gate. "Commander Shepard, General Corinthus is waiting for you. South side of the camp."
Shepard nodded, holstering her SMG and jogging through the gate. Turian soldiers swarmed everywhere, checking weapons or supplies. Ration crates were stacked haphazardly wherever there was room, along with boxes of ammunition and weapons. With a sharp gasp, she realized the rows and rows of orange emergency blankets were being used to cover bodies. Is Garrus under one of those?
"No, Shepard," Liara said softly, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Do not even let your mind go there."
Shepard shook her head and motioned for her team to follow her forward. She felt her mouth set in a grim line, and ignored the curious stares of quiet whispers of "spirits, that's Commander Shepard!" Since the media coverage of her trial and "victory" over the Batarian Hegemony, Vega had explained to her that she was a familiar face. "Especially with the war paint, Lola," he had quipped, crossing big arms over his chest. "Not that I'm sayin' it's a bad thing, but you're even more recognizable now than you were after the Blitz."
They had removed her paint during the trial and her incarceration, but she had been wearing it proudly, as she was escorted form the Normandy and into Alliance custody. Garrus explained it made her easily recognizable by turian standards, a culture based on place marks of belonging to distinguish who belonged to whom and to where. He had even mentioned it made her more relatable to certain turians, who saw it as a blending of cultures, a sort of societal bridge between humanity and his people. She had filed the information away to mull on at a later time, but found it shining in the forefront of her mind as she walked through the outpost. Several soldiers were even saluting her.
"Shit, Lola," Vega said quietly, hastening his pace to catch up with her. "I've never seen a turian salute a human soldier."
She ignored him, eyes searching for Corinthus. She located him in a metal shelter ahead, surrounded by several lieutenants in black and red armor. The general was standing over a large holo of Menae's surface, the pixelated image covered in glowing points of light.
"Command Shepard," he drawled, turning to give her a quick nod. His voice lacked the distinct soothing quality Garrus' had. Has, Shepard. Don't stick him in the grave yet. "Heard you were coming, but I didn't believe it. General Corinthus."
She threw her braid over her shoulder and returned his nod, gazing at the moving points of light in front of them. "I'm here to get Primarch Fedorian."
Corinthus froze, gloved talons digging into the side of the table. "Primarch Fedorian is dead. His shuttle was shot down an hour ago."
Behind her, Liara let out a soft gasp, and Vega made a disgruntled noise in his throat. Shepard felt a tendril of real fear flutter in her gut. Garrus' father had been serving as Advisor to the Primarch. Was he on that shuttle? Was Garrus?
"That's going to complicate things a bit," she replied, taking a deep, calming breath. "I'm sorry for your loss. I heard he was a good man."
Corinthus tilted his head the slightest bit towards her, which she knew was a sign of acknowledgement. "And a friend. He would have made an outstanding diplomat."
"What do we do now?"
Liara, who had been hovering behind Shepard like a nervous chaperone, broke the din with her breathy voice. "The Hierarchy provides very clear lines of succession."
Shepard turned to Corinthus, who nodded. "With such heavy casualties, it's difficult for me to be certain who the next Primarch is. Palaven Command will know. However, at the moment, contacting them is impossible. The comm tower is out. Husks are swarming that area; we can't get close enough to repair it."
Sounds like an impossible job to throw Commander Shepard at, she mused darkly. "Don't worry, General. We'll get your comm tower up and running."
"Thank you, Commander. I'll handle things on this end."
Shepard motioned for her team to move out. Pain, despair and hopelessness filled her chest as they made their way out of the compound. Liara followed behind her like a shadow, Vega bringing up the rear.
Where are you, Garrus? she thought mournfully, staring up at the smoldering shadow of Palaven.
Garrus' neck ached from leaning over his omnitool for too long. Corinthus' data had set his team in motion, observing vids taken off the helmets of soldiers, taking notes and studying samples. The turian constructs, which is team had christened "marauders", appeared to be their biggest threat. Armored and armed to the teeth, they were incredibly quick and capable of commanding hoards of husks, which they also armored. The team was trying to develop a contingency plan, something to provide platoons with to give them the upper hand. Garrus studied the holo of one, and was reminded of Saren. More cybernetics than organic, with the same empty, haunted look. He ran a weary hand over his face. The batarian constructs had been slightly less problematic. DNA samples indicated the creatures were actually batarian and human, fused together by reaper tech. The team had been calling them "cannibals"; Garrus himself had witnessed one of the beasts feasting on the flesh of its fallen comrade. The cannibalism seemed to have an obscure healing effect. They could, however, be quickly dispatched with several incendiary rounds to the head.
Radio chatter was still down, and his team had sequestered themselves to the north end of the base, taking an entire shelter for themselves. Next to him, Vatius was muttering a string of curse words under his breath. "It just doesn't make sense!" he spat, thumping his fist on the table. "How are they armoring an entire platoon of husks without actual armor?"
"My only guess is that it's some form of biotics," Lentulus suggested. "We've seen it in the Praetorian's; the reapers have the ability to infuse any of their constructs with particle beam accelerators. I'm not doubting they're capable of creating a perverse version of kinetic shields."
"Does the shielding die with the marauder? Or the husk?"
"The vids I've seen suggest its fully dependent on the marauder," Garrus said. "We should be targeting that first, which makes sense. Always target the strongest enemy before the weaker one."
Vatius nodded sagely. "Well, it's better than nothing. As soon as the comm tower is back up, we can send out an info blast."
"Several platoons have reported success using the 'herding' technique, sir," Asello said, rising from his seat on a supply crate to join the other huddled turians. "There's been an increase in demand for power cells to fuel the Cains, but Paulus has been working at a way to decrease the spooling time and the power draw. Give him a few more hours and he'll probably have it."
They all gazed across the shelter at Paulus, who was hunkered over a tool bench, humming quietly to himself. The turian had been pivotal in the development of advanced incendiary ammunition back on Palaven. Within two weeks of being recruited by Garrus, he had a solid schematic for a modified Cain as well, the one he had brought with him to Menae. He didn't talk much, but his constant buzz of energy reminded Garrus of Mordin Solus.
"The mad scientist," Lentulus quipped, shaking his head.
"Kid could make a rifle out of paperclips and rubber bands," Garrus said with a tight smile.
"Advisor Vakarian sir!" Garrus whipped his head around to see a young lieutenant sprint towards him, breathless. He skidded to a halt below the shelter, doubling over to catch his breath.
"Easy, Lieutenant. Where's the fire?" he said, holding his hands up in a "slow down" gesture.
"Sir...an Alliance frigatejust entered the system."
"What?" He stood abruptly, armored spurs catching the edge of his chair and knocking it over.
"The Alliance HQ was destroyed..." he took a deep breath, fighting to control his labored breathing. "There are survivors. Earth is under attack..Admiral Hackett sent the ship to rendezvous and procure the Primarch."
"Fedorian is dead. We haven't had any report from Palaven on who's next in succession."
"It's Victus, sir. General Victus."
Garrus shook his head slowly. Damnit, Adrien. You're not going to like this. With the ghost of a smile on his face, he gestured to the shelter. "Victus isn't here. I haven't seen him for hours."
The lieutenant nodded violently. "I know, sir. I'm here because the Alliance ship is the Normandy." He took another deep breath and straightened up. "Commander Shepard and her team were the ones to get our comm tower back up and running."
Garrus felt the world slow, the sounds of war dulling to muted background noise, his vision greying at the edges. She was here, on Menae, alive. He blinked several times, trying to clear his head. "Where are they."
"On their way back from Delta outpost, to debrief with Corinthus."
He turned to his team. They were silent and still, watching the exchange. Lentalus stepped forward and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Go. We can handle it from here."
Garrus grasped his forearm in reply, before grabbing his Widow from the weapons bench and sprinting down the stairs.
Alpha outpost was large, easily encompassing sever hundred yards of Manae's surface. His long strides at up the ground as he jogged towards command. Several people turned to yell as he shoved past them, only to recognize who it was and snapped of salutes. He was in too much of a hurry to acknowledge them with anything more than a tight nod.
Spirits, you've kept her alive. Again. He allowed himself a smile, feeling the almost unfamiliar tendrils of warmth spread through his chest.
"What have you got?" Shepard said to Corinthus, vaulting up the shelter steps two at a time. She and her team had returned back to base after successfully fixing the comm tower, heading straight for the general.
"As your partner said, succession is usually simple." Corinthus sounded world-weary as he leaned against the table. "But right now, the Hierarchy is in chaos. So many dead or MIA..."
She had been running on empty since Hackett broke the news of the attack on Palaven. From Alliance HQ straight to Mars, watching Ash almost die at the hands of a Cerberus AI, to Menae, surrounded by the injured and dead people of her mate. Earth was burning, and with each passing second she felt the iron grip of despair clench tighter around her chest. She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming.
"I need someone. I don't care who it is as long as they can get us the turian resources we need!" She took a deep, shuddering breath, and watched as Corinthus tapped frantically at the holo table.
"Palaven command tells me that the next Primarch is General Adrien Victus." He shook his head. "It seems as if I was one of the last to know, and I just sent Victus over to Beta outpost."
"Victus..." Liara said, stepping closer to Shepard. "His name has crossed my desk."
"Where is he?" Shepard asked, turning back to the general.
"Several hours ago I reassigned him to a different outpost to oversee operations there. With the comms as unreliable as they are, I haven't been able to receive any updates."
Shepard ran a hand across the shaved side of her head. "So, you're telling me our new primarch is somewhere on this moon, fighting reaper forces?"
"I'm sorry, Shepard. That's all the information I have. You could try going directly to Beta outpost, but there's no guarantee that's where he is. They may be able to point you in the right direction."
She clenched and unclenched her hands, fighting back a wave of anger. A snarky retort was on the tip of her tongue, but was interrupted by Liara's startled gasp.
Shepard felt him before she saw him. The all-too-familiar magnetic pull, her body's natural response to his proximity, a moon caught in his gravity. She turned, the rest of the world fading out.
Under the dim light of Menae, he strode towards her in black armor, his Widow against his chest.
Corinthus snapped into a salute. "Advisor Vakarian, sir."
Her breath caught in her chest as he climbed the stairs to stand a few feet from her. Blue eyes found grey, and he wore the same look of concern and utter relief as she did.
"At ease, General," he said, his gaze never leaving hers. She drank in the sight of him. There were new scars, along with several fresh wounds across his neck and face. The armor he wore was heavier and more imposing, his arms and belt bristling with grenades and flash bangs. The trademark visor was, of course, present over his left eye. He was here, and he was whole. She was rooted to the spot, afraid any movement she made would shatter the illusion of military stoicism.
"Garrus?" she said. It came out as a whisper. "You're alive." Remembering herself, she extended a hand in greeting. Through both sets of gloves, she felt her skin burn as their fingers connected, and he tugged her closer and laid his other hand on top of their intertwined ones.
"I'm hard to kill," he replied. "You should know that."
"I thought you'd be on Palaven."
He took a step back, disengaging their hands. "If we lose this moon, we lose Palaven. I'm the closest damn thing we have to an expert on reaper forces so...I'm...advising." He gave her a coy shrug. Behind them, Vega cleared his throat, snapping Shepard back to the present.
"James," she said, stepping aside to let the burly lieutenant shake Garrus' hand. "This is Garrus Vakarian. He helped us stop the Collectors. He's a hell of a solider."
"Lieutenant," Garrus acknowledged. "Good to see you too, Liara."
"Good to see you in one piece, Garrus," the asari replied, her smile wide.
"I've been briefed, and I think I know where to find Victus."
"Know him, Garrus?" Shepard asked, turning to stare at him. Thank whatever spirits have kept you safe. I couldn't do this without you.
"I was fighting alongside him this morning." He sunk his weight onto one hip, leaning towards her. "Lifelong military, gets results, popular with his troops." He cracked a wide grin. "Not so popular with military command. He has a reputation for playing loose with accepted strategy."
"On Taetrus, during the uprisings, his squad discovered a salarian spy ring about the same time as the turian separatists did. Rather than neutralize the ring, he fell back. He even gave up valuable fortifications which the rebels took."
"Then, the rebels attacked the salarians," Garrus continued. "And when both groups had worn each other down, Victus moved back in. Didn't lose a man."
"Bold strategy," Corinthus said bluntly. "But wild behavior doesn't get you advanced up the meritocracy."
Garrus gave Corinthus an apprehensive look, then turned back to Shepard. "Primarch Victus. That should be something to see."
"Do you think he can get the job done?" she asked.
"You and I both know conventional strategy won't beat the reapers. Right now, he may be our best hope. And I trust him." He leveled her with a look, one that said, I'll explain more later.
"Ok. Let's get him on the shuttle and get him out of here."
"Commander!" Joker's voice crackled through on her comm. "Shepard! Come in!"
Shepard pressed the earpiece, her mouth in a tight line. "Joker, can this wait? We're in the middle of a war zone."
"We've got a situation on the Normandy, Commander. It's...like she's possessed! Shutting down systems, powering up weapons...I can't find the source."
She sighed inwardly and turned to Liara. "I need the Normandy standing by in case we need an evac."
"Should I go back and take a look?" the asari asked.
"Do it." She turned to her mate, feeling her breath catch at the sight of him. "Garrus, you were with Victus this morning?"
"Yeah, but we got separated. Corinthus sent him to Beta outpost, to replace their commander. Took a platoon with him. He could be anywhere."
"We're trying to raise him, Commander," Corinthus said from his place at the holo table.
A sudden metallic shriek shook the ground. A shadow passed over the outpost, and a harvester flew low over them, screaming.
"Incoming!" Vega yelled, spinning to unload a clip into the creature. It soared over them and out of sight. The sudden sound of screams and explosions filled the air.
"General," Shepard shouted, unclipping her SMG from its place on her back. "Tell Primarch Victus we'll rendezvous here." She turned to face Vega and Garrus. "Let's go take care of whatever that thing dropped off." Adrenaline pouring into her bloodstream at the thought of fighting next to her mate. "Coming, Garrus?"
"Are you kidding?" he quipped, extending his Widow and flipping the safety off. "I'm right behind you."
On my six, she thought as they moved out. Right where you belong.
The trio moved forward and a hurried pace, passing through the gate and into the fray. The airfield was a torrent of violence and fire. Shepard sprinted up into cover, feeling Garrus settle next to her on her right. Always on my right.
"James, is that you breathing so hard?" she quipped, knocking her shoulder into Garrus'. The lieutenant was still green to her command tactics, and if his performance at the Mars Archives was anything to go by, his previous battlefield encounters still hung heavy on his conscience. Humor and a little razzing went a long way with nervous recruits.
"Atmosphere's a little thinner than I'm used to," he responded through her earpiece. "Adrenaline's better than oxygen any day."
"I can see why you like him," Garrus said over her private channel. His voice sent a shiver down her spine. "He thinks like a turian."
"He's a good man," she responded, taking a grenade from the magstrip on his arm and pulling the pin with her teeth. "Anderson assured me he's a hell of a soldier, too."
She heaved the explosive over the barrier, where it landed in a swarm of husks, sending pieced of cybernetics and flesh flying. A marauder advanced on their position.
"Is it just me, or do those reapers look like turians?" Vega grunted as he rolled back into cover.
"Target it," Garrus called out, backing up his statement with a shot of his rifle. "We need to take it out, otherwise those armored husks are going to cause issues."
Shepard was about to comply before he grabbed her gun, jamming a new heatsink into it. "Try this. Might work better."
His hands lingered on hers for the briefest of moments, his touch resonating in her groin. She leaned out of cover and fired, watching as the husk nearest her immediately went up in blue-green flames.
"Holy shit!"
"Just something my team developed."
"Don't leave me hanging!" Vega quipped, and Garrus tossed him a handful of heatsinks. The lieutenant cracked a wide grin, looking much like a kid in a candy store.
The team worked tirelessly to thin the flood of reaper forces. Shepard felt herself falling into her and Garrus' old routine seamlessly. It was as if six months had never passed, had never separated them. The moved effortlessly together. Hand signals, the slightest of body movements, they could read each other without the need for words. A marauder moved to flank them, and Shepard disappeared under the cover of her tactical cloak as Garrus turned his back on the creature. She slipped behind it, driving her omniblade through its chest as Garrus landed a spur kick to its abdomen. He shoved the dead thing off his back and turned to Shepard as she shimmered back into view, giving her a huge grin.
James let out a low whistle. "That was some impressive teamwork."
"Stick around long enough and I'll teach you a few tricks," Shepard replied, snapping her bloody omniblade off on her armored thigh.
"Commander, we have a situation." Corinthus' voice grated across their comms. "We've got a reaper inbound, and if they breech our gate we're done for."
"On our way!" she responded, waving the team forward.
They sprinted back through the outpost, watching as a harvester flew overhead shrieking. The barrier was swarming with turian soldiers trying to hold off the flood of husks. Shepard scaled the nearest ladder and took control of a turret. James and Garrus stood next to her, adding their own gunfire to the battle.
Husk after husk poured out of flaming harvester pods. The turret was a behemoth of a gun, spinning heavily on its stand as she swept the space in front of them with bullets. Vega was laughing like he was having the time of his life.
"Like shooting fish in a barrel!" he shouted.
"What?" Garrus asked.
"It's an old human saying. Like shoot fish. In. A barrel."
Shepard didn't get to hear Garrus' reply. Out of a flaming harvester pod charged an enormous, reaperized creature she had never seen before.
"Holy hell! What is that?" Vega yelled, staring at his commander. The thing growled and sprinted for the barricade, slamming its body into the metal, sending tremors down the wall. Shepard, perched precariously next to the turret, felt herself tip forward, the ground rushing up to meet her.
Not good, not good, Garrus thought as Shepard scrambled back up onto her feet. She sprinted for cover behind a boulder, scrambling up to perch at the very top.
"Garrus," she whispered on her comm, disappearing beneath her tactical cloak. "Get down here and distract it." The creature halted its charge at the rock, confused by the sudden disappearance of its target.
Garrus didn't need to ask twice. Yelling at Vega to stop shoot and follow, he vaulted down off the barrier and sprayed the brute with rounds from his assault rifle.
"Where the hell is Lola?" James shouted above the noise from his own gun.
"Don't worry about her," Garrus panted, dodging as the creature charged him. "Just keep it distracted."
His eyes studied the brute as he unloaded clip after clip at it. Heavily armored, it had the hulking shape of a krogan, with the head of a turian mounted to its bulky body. He knew Shepard was still at the top of the rock, waiting for them to drive it over to her. He motioned for James to flank right. It followed the lieutenant, who was sprinting as fast as his heavy armor would allow. Garrus unloaded a concussive shot at the creature's head. It swung around to face him.
"That's right, nice tasty turian over here. Come on. Charge me!"
The brute complied with a roar, and Garrus turn on his heel and sprinted to the rock, passing so close to it his armor screeched along the solid surface. He was more agile than the creature, and spun around to the other side, putting the boulder between it and him. He heard her cry and watched as the brute stumbled, flailing its too-short arms at its back. It slammed into the rock, causing it to crack, and Garrus backed away towards Vega.
"Don't shoot it," he panted, holding up a hand.
"Why-"
With a hideous shriek, the brute fell to its stomach, twitching. Shepard uncloaked, pulling her knife out of the creatures spine and stepping off its back.
"It's part krogan," she said, wiping black gore off her blade. "Barely any armor on its back. Severed what I think was the spinal cord. No chance of regen."
"Loco. Absolutely fucking loco," James said, shaking his head. Garrus was beaming at her, his chest swelling with pride. This strong, crazy warrior was his.
"Corinthus," she said, pressing her earpiece. "What's the status on the primarch?"
"Still can't get a stable comm link," he replied, and Shepard shook her head.
"Alright. We're going on foot." She turned to her team. "Garrus?"
"I'm sure I can figure out where he'd be. Let's move out."
He set a hurried pace, eyes searching the terrain in front of them for enemies. On the horizon hung a reaper, massive even several kilometers out, its black metal legs making the ground tremble with each step. The rounded a corner, and Palaven swung into full view.
"Damnit," he said quietly, slowing his pace. "You see that blaze of orange? The big one. That's where I was born. Where I grew up."
"That's rough," James replied. "You still have family there?"
"My dad. A sister." He didn't know the fate of his mother. She had been barely holding on when he was deployed to Menae.
"How bad is it?"
A chill seeped through him as he thought back to his scramble from Palaven's atmosphere. Landing on the moon and being briefed on the carnage unfolding below them. "Three million lost the first day. Five the second."
"How's your military holding up?" Shepard asked, jogging up on his left side. Her eyes were focused and bright beneath her war paint.
"Take a look around," he said grimly. "That should give you some idea."
"You're putting up a good fight," she said, quieter this time.
"For now. But how long does it take before the fight is kicked out of you?" He snapped his teeth together in agitation, the familiar build of anger crawling up his limbs. "If they'd only listed to your warnings about the reapers." She turned to catch his eye, and he saw a torrent of emotion in her gaze. "We might have been ready."
The pressed forward, passing the wreckage of a turian frigate, smoldering in the shadow of a reaper. Several injured soldiers pointed them in the general direction Victus had gone. Garrus handed them several packages of medigel, and they stared wide-eyed at the human woman beside him. Rising shakily to his feet, one of the soldiers balanced on one leg and snapped off a salute which Garrus and Shepard returned. Some gestures transcended the line between species.
After the assurance that the injured would be ok, they moved out again, Garrus' heart heavy.
"So Lola," James panted, breaking the din. "You really think this summit will work? Asari? Salarians? Where's the krogan and batarian. Where's the meat?"
"It's not that easy," she replied, and Garrus felt the weight of the galaxy settle on their shoulders.
They arrived to Beta outpost to find it swarming with reaper troops. Garrus and Shepard vaulted over the crumpled gate, sprinting into the fray. He spun, searching for decent cover. He found it in the form of a rock spire, ten feet tall and just as wide. Ducking behind it, he pulled Shepard with him, their armor knocking together, James not far behind. She eyed the top of the boulder and grinned. Quickly, Garrus knelt and interlaced his fingers together. She stepped a booted foot into them, and he heaved her up. She landed gracefully on the top of the rock, already pulling her Widow off her back. James shook his head in indignation.
"See if you can get that brute over here," she said over the comm.
"Once wasn't enough, Shepard?" Garrus quipped, lobbing a grenade into a crush of husks.
"The last one was too much fun. You should try it!"
Garrus snorted and motioned for Vega to cover the other side of the boulder. Thankfully there was only one brute, and the two males watched as Shepard launched herself at the breast, driving her omniblade into its back. Its fall shook the ground, and she spun to dispatch a husk that had crept up behind her.
Several soldiers had stationed themselves on the roofs of shelters, taking pot shots at husks as they sprinted by. Garrus grit his teeth together. "Snipers!" he shouted, voice carrying across the outpost. "Target the marauders!"
With some direction, the soldiers started to hold their own. He waved Shepard and Vega forward into the depths of camp.
"There!" he shouted, pointing towards a barricaded shelter.
Victus quirked a smile as Garrus sprinted towards him. Let's hope he's in a good mood when I tell him that he has to leave the fight to play politics. He felt Shepard come to a stop at his right. Her mouth was set in a hard line, and she was bleeding freely from a cut on her forehead. With the paint, she looked downright feral.
"General Victus?" she asked, stepping forward. "I'm Commander Shepard of the Normandy."
"Ah Commander. I know who you are." He leveled a look at Garrus. "I can't wait to see what brings you out here."
Garrus cleared his throat nervously. Shepard knitted her brows together. "General? You're needed off planet. I've come to get you."
"It will takes something of utmost importance to leave my men or my turian brothers and sisters in the middle of a fight." Victus shook his head solemnly.
"Fedorian was killed." Garrus took a deep, steadying breath. "You're the new primarch."
"You're needed immediately to chair a summit and represent your people in the fight against the reapers," Shepard said, squaring her shoulders. Garrus watched as Victus pushed past her, stopping to stare up at the smoldering orb of their home world. He was silent for several moments, and Garrus put a hand on Shepard's arm, stopping her from going to him.
"I'm primarch of Palaven?" Victus said quietly. "Negotiating for the turian Hierarchy?" Garrus could hear the pain resonating in the male's subvocals. Victus turned back to them. "I've spent my whole life in the military. I'm no diplomat. I hate diplomats."
"What makes you think you're not qualified?" Shepard asked.
"I'm not really a 'by the book' kinda guy. And I piss people off."
Garrus barked out a laugh and Victus shook his head. "My family's been military since the Unification War. War is my life. It's in my bones." He sighed. "But that kind of dedication is deceptive. It can make you seem reckless when you're anything but."
"War is your resume." Shepard's voice was hard. "At a time like this, we need leaders who have been through that hell."
Victus chuckled warmly, staring at the woman. "I like that. You're right."
"And honestly? Uniting these races may take as much strength as fighting the reapers." She left Garrus' side and strode forward, gesturing to the wreck of a frigate. "See this devastation? Double that for Earth. I need an alliance. I need the turian fleet."
Victus walked forward, stopping in front of her. Garrus held his breath as the two individuals sized each other up; his good friend, leader of his people, and his mate, leader of her people. Their intensity sent a chill down his spine.
"Give me a few minutes to say goodbye to my men." He turned and walked back into the shelter. Shepard moved back to Garrus' side, hands clenched into fists.
"Without him down here, there's a good chance we lose this moon," he said quietly. She shook her head.
"Without him up there, we may lose everything."
He felt a catch in his throat, and turned to watch the massive form of a reaper make its way across the terrain. "Look at that. And they want my opinion on how to stop these things? Failed C-Sec officer, vigilante...and I'm their expert advisor?" He turned, his eyes searching hers, taking in the sight of her. The thought of life without her was almost enough to making him fall to his knees. They had come together in a time of war, tempered by the impossible tasks laid before them. He couldn't have done it without her. "Do you really think we can win this?"
She raised her chin and set her jaw, looking every bit the warrior she was. It took his breath away to see her silhouetted against the smoldering ruin of his home world. The galaxy's hope. Commander Shepard. Ahyoka. His mate.
"We have to. You promised me forever, remember?"
Author's Note: So, I apologize for having taken so long between chapters for this fic. I wanted to try and focus on finished up the prequel to this, Cold Fluorescence, and also started a Shoker fic. Since CF is well on its way to wrapping up, you can expect more updates for this story moving forward. As always, thank you for the favorites and follows!
